America’s Stark Animal — Poem To Cormac McCarthy
Blue And Green Music
O; How ye disparage and humor us with the fond darkness — surrounding.
How you lure me away — keeping me, making me want to stay clear and away; stark do I reside in your empty present, lacking naught but aught.
O; How ye fondles the pickling breast by the slight sly of his armed hands — bare fisting the burglars away from the rear of the party.
Oh, how — do undoubtedly!
Death ever the vain thing and its glumping unto Man —
You shan’t be, even in the prime effects.
A short gun — a bowie knife;
A prime gatherer — a loosening Valhalla.
Oh, the reaming sex —!
A dusted body in the lurch —
A lynching gone into the
Nexus of humane denial by cross
And by the death that
Pins the crucible
By a falsifying fixture
On the wall.
Do I have to kill,
I’m not the man
To do so —
The deniable is the tyranny —
Of the bearable to come.
Forth in force.
For tomorrow.
And thereafter.
I’m not the man
With everything
What shall they do
To my name
After MY death
Succumbs me so readily —
Yet so premature.
By — Why — Be.
O; Noting all about the hanging man — the fowl that hooks;
Premature, again to note.
O; Nothing in at all for the bridging sex here —
The crook and the killing to make me disappear;
From all Friendships and love’s still attained to.
By all amplitudes in the mix —
Got mixed in further still.
O; the children will be sexed on forth
By a gunned man before his second sight
Is had thrice tonight by the Confidence’s Man
In the triple shadow — the broaches him only
To the vexing of his own mighty
By rule and writ —
He broaches still. That. That, still.
The Chromaticism is still there.
Blue and Green —
I’m still there.
So are you, in this all?
Oh, how — do undoubtedly!
O; How ye disparage and humor us with the fond darkness — surrounding.
Out from light to get out some night —
Fright, to atone for our humor; thrice said!
How you lure me away — keeping me, making me want to stay clear and away; stark do I reside in your empty present, lacking naught but aught.
O; How ye fondles the pickling breast by the slight sly of his armed hands — bare fisting the burglars away from the rear of the party.
Stark and Babe — slick as the kicking ass.
Ain’t that just like me?
Stark and Babe.
Like it.
Stark and Babe.
Peeled away Darling’s nails —
A line, you shall be a returner to.
Someday.
Oh, how — do undoubtedly!
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